Winter's End
by treblegnome
Summary: A Jaime and Arya story. Takes place when Arya is older.


Jaime Lannister had not stopped looking for Sansa Stark. Brienne was long gone, her life taken by the enraged Lady Stoneheart but he had managed to escape and continue the quest alone. He rounded a curve in the road on his pale horse and saw a wounded young woman lying on the side of the road. At first glance she appeared to be dead but she was still breathing and apparently alive after all. He dismounted his horse and went to her. She was young, perhaps sixteen or seventeen. Her clothes were torn, her wrists were raw and bleeding, evidence of having been bound, her body was badly bruised and one arm was bent and quite obviously broken. The other arm looked like it might have been broken as well. Jaime pulled back her hood to see her face and was struck by the resemblance she bore to Ned Stark. There was no denying that this was Arya Stark.

He set up camp at that very spot and began to tend her injuries. There were no Inns or Castles for many miles and it wouldn't be healthy to move her in this state anyhow. The arm had to be set in order for the bones to heal properly. He was thankful that she was still unconscious for that. He cleaned her cuts with boiled wine and gave her water to drink. It took nearly three days for her to finally wake. Jaime was sitting next to her when she opened her eyes.

"Where am I?" She said with confusion. "Why are you here here Ser Jaime?"

"I found you injured here three days ago. I stayed to tend your wounds. Your arms are broken, your wrists are blistered and there was a deep gash on your leg that needed to be sewed up." He told her gently.

Her eyes widened with shock. "But why? Why would you help me?"

"Years ago I promised your mother that I would bring her daughters home to Winterfell. I've been looking for you and your sister for a long time. But even if I hadn't made that promise, I would have still helped you. It's wrong to just leave an injured person to die."

Arya swallowed, then she tried to get up.

Jaime put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't. You'll only hurt yourself. You should rest."

She glared at him and tried again, managing to sit up but not to stand. She tried her arms but winced in pain. The splints Jaime had made for her held tightly and she knew he was right about them being broken. She had never felt so helpless in all her life. Fear filled her stomach, showing through to her eyes. "I can't use my arms...and I'd be slow trying to walk with my leg all sewed up... gods!"

"Looks like you're stuck with me for a while." Jaime grinned.

Arya glared at him again.

"What happened to you Arya? Were you robbed? Raped?" He asked, serious again.

She nodded. "There were five of them. I could have handled two or three. I've killed that many in a fight before, especially when they fight like a Westerosi knight. These men were Dothraki. They kept me tied up for weeks. I didn't understand their language but I got the idea that they found it amusing whenever I fought back..." Arya stopped at the sound of her stomach growling. "Do you have any food?"

Jaime gave her dried bread, cheese, and roasted rabbit. She ate hungrily, then lay down and went back to sleep. Late in the night Jaime awoke to her screams. Arya was having a nightmare. He shook her awake, she sat bolt upright, gasping for breath. Then she looked at him with terror in her eyes. "What happens if they come back?"

"They aren't coming back."

"Maybe not, but if they do, what then?"

"Then I put you on my horse and try to hold them off as long as I can." He said.

Arya gave him a look. "You would do that?"

Jaime looked at the terrified young woman before him and knew that he would risk his life for her without hesitation. Honor demanded it. "Yes, I would. Arya, I assume that you are used to taking care of yourself, and I know it must be difficult to trust someone else to care for you, especially a Lannister, but I will do whatever I have to do to bring you safely home."

Arya had learned how to read people and she knew that Jaime spoke the truth to her. She didn't understand why, but she believed that he would protect her while she was unable to fight for herself. She believed that he truly intended to bring her back to Winterfell. She had just one more question for him. "If you're so concerned for my safety, why are you sleeping way over there?" She indicated his bedroll on the opposite side of the fire.

Jaime laughed and moved his bedroll next to Arya, putting her between him and the fire where she would be safest. Arya felt like a silly little maiden asking Jaime to sleep closer to her. She had been just fine taking care of herself for the past few years. She'd been able to to fight or lie or sneak her way out of any problems. She had never needed a handsome knight to come rescue her. That was Sansa's dream not hers. Now that her arms were broken and her leg was injured, she was smart enough to know that she couldn't survive alone in her condition. But it wasn't survival that made her want Jaime nearby. The fact was, she feared ever having any man touch her again and she knew that Jaime wouldn't let that happen. She felt safer with him next to her. It was a strange feeling.

"Do feel up to traveling?" Jaime asked her over breakfast the next morning.

She nodded. He suspected that she would say yes even if she were dying. Arya was not one to show weakness. She was very similar to her Aunt Lyanna. He would have to keep a close eye on her and make sure she didn't hurt herself.

"We'll have to share a horse for at least a few weeks until we reach the maybe I can buy another one."

She shrugged. "It's not as if I could hold the reins anyway." Arya said.

Jaime packed up their few supplies and lifted Arya onto the horse. He mounted behind her. She was stiff at first, riding without the use of her arms and only one healthy leg. Her entire body was far more bruised and sore than she had even realized so it was a struggle to remain sitting upright and maintain a little distance between them in the saddle. After a few hours Arya was exhausted but she wouldn't give up. She bit her lip until it bled in her stubborn effort.

"Arya relax. You can lean on me if it helps." Jaime finally said.

She wanted to scream at him, to tell him that she didn't need to lean on him, didn't need him to sleep next to her, and didn't need him to bring her home, but she was exhausted and the pain had reached a point of unbearableness so she gave in and leaned against his strong body. Hours later she woke up, not remembering having fallen asleep. Jaime's arm was wrapped around her keeping her from falling off the horse. Once again she felt safe.

"How long might it be before my arms are better?" Arya asked him as they ate over their campfire that night.

"A few weeks I'd think."

"And my leg?"

"Probably just as long."

"What happened to your hand?" Arya asked him.

Jaime told her the story of Vargo Hoat and Brienne of Tarth and the vow he'd made to Lady Stark. Then Arya told him much of her journey over the past few years, ending with her leaving the faceless men to finally begin looking for her surviving family.

Jaime placed his bedroll next to Arya's that night. She was thankful that he didn't make her ask him to do it. She waited until he seemed to be asleep and slid over closer to him, facing him, close enough to touch and share his warmth. Jaime wasn't asleep. He opened his eyes for a moment to let her know it before reaching out to her and placing his hand on her arm.

The next day Arya was less hesitant to lean on him as they rode. Not only was it easier for her bruised body, she found that she enjoyed human contact. She'd rarely had a hug in the past few years. She had convinced herself that she didn't need people anyway. But with Jaime's warm body against her back, his arm around her, she began to realize how much she'd missed physical affection.

That evening Jaime left her alone for a little while so he could hunt something down for dinner. She sat curled up by the fire willing herself not to worry or panic. Time seemed to pass more slowly than ever. Jaime returned and Arya nearly jumped out of her skin. He carried a dead rabbit.

"You okay?" He asked, seeing her ghostly white face.

She nodded, biting her lip. "I'm fine."

He sat down next to her and began skinning the rabbit.

"When you lost your hand, were you afraid of being defenseless?" She asked him.

"Some yes, and afraid of being useless."

"But you learned to use your left hand with a sword."

He nodded. "I did, though not as well as the right."

Arya stared at the fire for a long while before going on. "I would rather die than ever be raped again."

"Arya, I promise you, you're safe here. I wasn't far away. I would have heard if anyone came and next time I'll leave you to wait on horseback if it helps...but I won't let anyone hurt you. You are safe."

She met his eyes and for the first time in many years she finally allowed herself to cry. She cried for the loss of her family, for the loneliness she'd felt, for Winterfell, and for the violence done to her by the Dothraki men. Everything came rushing out in great sobs and Jaime moved closer and pulled her into his arms while she wept.

She ate dinner that night with red eyes from crying. The two of them lay down to sleep and Jaime pulled her into his arms without waiting for her to move closer. She accepted the embrace and snuggled close enough to to lay her face against his chest. She hasn't felt so safe or so at home for many years. Unbidden, a few more tears slip out of her eyes. To her surprise, Jaime kissed them away. Moments later she was fast asleep and her dreams were peaceful that night.

Arya woke up first the next morning, still in Jaime's arms. She pulled away just slightly to see his face, he was still asleep. She tried to lie still and relax in his embrace for a little longer while he slept. It worried her that she was becoming so comfortable with him and so dependent on him. What would she do if they did reach Winterfell and he left her to return to Casterly Rock? As much as she had always preferred to take care of herself, she'd long ago realized that most men were stronger than her. Still, she'd never thought she needed their strength until now. Jaime's arms were strong and somehow safer than being alone and healthy ever was. The thought of going back to her lonely life again...gods he even smelled good too. Arya realized with a pang of disappointment that she had feelings for him, she wanted him to kiss her and even to fuck her. But not only was he far too old to care for her in that way, he was a Lannister and she was a Stark. He'd probably just laugh and make some witty remark if he knew how she felt.

By the time Jaime finally woke up, Arya's feelings were a jumbled up mess in her mind. She'd been with men a few times before her encounter with the Dothraki. However, these had never been serious relationships. It was more of a ploy for her to gain power or something she wanted from them. Yes, she had found them attractive and she had certainly been willing, but she never wanted any of them to stay and be part of her life afterward. What she felt for Jaime was entirely different and it made her both angry and happy all at once.

"Did you have nightmares again?" Jaime asked her over breakfast.

"No."

"Have trouble sleeping then?"

"No." She glared at him.

"What's got you acting so strangely?"

"I'm not. You're the one being strange, asking me a thousand questions." She shot back at him.

"It was two questions. A far cry from a thousand. And there's definitely something different about you. You're even blushing." He teased.

"I am not!" Arya tore a bite from her bread, trying to ignore him.

"I'm not complaining. You're quite pretty when you blush." He continued.

"You're either lying or blind." She said, irritated.

"Neither one actually. The truth is, you're pretty even without blushing. I'm surprised no one has told you that before."

Arya dropped her food to the ground and stared at him in disbelief. Why was he tormenting her like this? Suddenly she found herself getting up from the fire and fleeing. She heard him call after her but she ignored him. Breaking down crying in front of him about being raped was one thing, but she wasn't going to do it again over being ugly. She kept running as best she could, kicking branches and brush out of the way as she went. He soon caught her, arms around her waist he stopped her from going further but she continued to struggle.

"Arya stop it. Stop trying to run away. Please." His words were gentle, all the teasing gone.

She stopped pulling away and stood still.

"What just happened? Did I somehow stir up some bad memories?" Jaime asked.

Arya turned to face him. "You're an idiot. I'm not pretty and you shouldn't have said that I was."

Jaime's eyes widened with surprise. He reached for her and tilted her chin up so she'd look into his eyes. "You're wrong about that. Arya Stark, you are pretty, you're beautiful, and someone needed to tell you."

"If that's true, then why did it have to be you?" She bit her lip in an attempt to hold back the tears.

In that moment Jaime understood what had been troubling her. The attraction that he had been feeling towards her was mutual. Instead of answering her with words, he bent down and kissed her. She returned his kiss with as much passion as he felt. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and deepen the kiss but feared hurting her injured arms. Finally, he made himself pull away, she gasped in protest.

"Are you coming back to camp with me or do you plan to run away again?" He whispered.

She swallowed. "I'm coming back."


End file.
